


Moments

by korik



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hhaani Tabris
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 10:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/korik/pseuds/korik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles from and inspired by my rouge Tabris playthrough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Books

"Cursed FILTH - "

An incoming book barely clipped the top of Alistair’s head and his face scrounged up into a horrified expression - “Maker’s _breath_ , that’s a _book_ you just threw with no regard as to how many _hours -"_

A burning gaze made of hazy, blood and gold eyes made him shut up nearly as quickly, hands raising in defeat.

"Have mercy - was it _really_ that bad?"

Her words was venom. “These - these scholars, they speak of my people as if they were animals, blind, mindless things _needing them_ \- " Hhaani’s voice trembled, her face flushed as her tight fists slammed into the hard bark of a nearby tree.

The only slightly taller man flinched visibly - poor tree, maybe it had a family all about and now it had a wild Alienage Elf physically abusing it in front of the rest of its family.

"My people have _suffered_ extensively for the _amusement of such children_ , all because of such actions - " She whirled upon him now, a finger cramming into his chest, her wild red hair, matted as it was making her look particularly monstrous. “Because _none_ would stand up for them -"

She paused however, noting the way he flinched under her bloodshot eyes, dark, heavy bags under them. The way she was now threatening him as others had threatened her small family, her whole life.

Neatly, the rouge stepped back from him as if jerked away by some invisible string, a clear line of shame in her dark face. “But of course, you would not know - "

It was so strange, the way his hand touched her shoulder, friendly despite all the threats she had so clearly flung at him. “No, I don’t, but I would like to know, perhaps - I…know with Duncan -" he tried not to fumble, awkward, sweet Alistair - "-with Duncan now being gone, you haven’t had any time to mourn, to even _comprehend_ just how…" An inhale. “I’m sorry, is what I mean, I want to be here for you, if you’ll let me. I want to learn. Whatever you ask."

Slowly, drawn to face him, her head hanging, she risked with her blaze-gold eyes to look to his earthly hazel, the color of stone, fragmented in the glow of descending sun. “You are…too good to me."

His lips pursed, warm, trying to ease the awkwardness of before. “Me? What? _Nooo_ , I am exactly as I should be: warm, fuzzy, and _always_ a gentleman." He gently grasped at her hand, his face feeling oddly hot. “I just want you to really _know_ that I… _I mean it._ ”


	2. Books 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two relating to my Tabris and her interest in learning but finding the material available is rather...racist.

"You’ve almost got it - sound it out - "

She threw him a terribly bored look, lips descending into a clearly ‘screw you, shemlen’ expression. “Do they _need_ to be so overtly… _condescending_ to their readers?"

He laughed, awkwardly, scratching at his stubble. “I - well, you know the Chantry - not many people know _how_ to read, I suppose they think it’ll put them at ease to hear ‘their own language’ as it were."

A brief tug of her lips in an upward fashion as her worn hands cautiously prodded the pages, muttering to partially to herself. “So all noble humans talk this way? Figures the Kendells boy and his rot would have gotten it from somewhere."

Alistair frowned a little, nearly pouting. “Heeeey - I was educated by the Chantry, does - does that mean _I_ sound like the noble humans you seem to so dislike?" A blink. “Wait, which ‘Kendells boy’? You mean the Arl of Denerim - _that_ Kendells?"

Hhaani tilted her head to look at him with a single, critical eye. “I wasn’t referring to you; you aren’t..like most shemlen I’ve met." A sigh, quick to continue. “And yes, _that_ Kendells, admittedly I know of no other."

He smiled at her, warm, and pleased for a moment before he delved carefully into the subject. “I heard the Arl’s boy died - that was…you, then?"

The elf gave him a crooked smile. “I have little pity on those that take advantage of others." The heat to her gaze was blinding, furious, raging like some beast.

An awkward sound escaped him. “I - ah, I had… _no idea_ things were so…so bad."

The dark skinned woman sneered a little. “Perhaps you should see more of what lays before you, Templar."

He flinched and looked away, staring into the darkness around the campfire, the subtle tents emerging from the eclipsing dark. His hands felt the earth and grass beneath him, cool and composed, and he inhaled, careful to gather himself. “I’m…I’m sorry. Again, it seems I am the fool here. I should have asked." A hand ran through his hair and he could only heave a weak sigh, his heart compressing. “The world hasn’t been kind to you, I see that now, if it were possible, I would have…liked to have changed places with you."

The woman shifted on her haunches, cradling the book in an arm as she  smacked dirt and dust from her pants. “You would not have; I would not have let you." Her voice was steady. “You are a precious thing in this world, Alistair. Light where darkness…seems inescapable."

A familiar hot flush tickled up his neck. “I - what? No, no, I’m just _me_ , just _Alistair_ , you know? Tall and goofy? Foolhardy and cracker of jokes with a minor obsession with my hair and love of cheese..!" He worried his lower lip, smiling brightly. “I’m not - I’m not what you are, you, now _you_ , you’re a survivor, your life has been so  _hard_. But you’ve _survived._ " He leaned back onto his hands, trying to still the awkwardness he felt. 

She turned to him, leathers creaking as she did so, neatly placing the pilfered book into her cross legged lap. “And you have been…alone? Would you like to change that?"

His face must have been boiling, and he tried very hard to not fidget. “I - what? I - _huu_ \- are you…asking me what I think…you’re asking me?"

She smiled, a brow quirking ever so lightly above the dark purple markings surrounding those bird like eyes. “Care to join me in my tent?"

The bastard, one time Templar found himself under a blaze of pressure that could only have been compared to dragonfire, if he had actually ever gotten attacked by a dragon, you know - oh nevermind. “I hmm, well, you see, I’ve never…ah, done anything like this before."

A genuine, surprised noise. “I - oh." She flushed a little herself. “So you’re a virgin? That’s very cute, actually." A stab of dirty envy filled her gut, then wondrous marvel replaced it. “Sweet."

"Well, yes, I mean - " Maker forgive him, he was fumbling, his fingers twitching now over themselves, his body reacting just as how he was afraid it would want to act. “I was raised in the Chantry, as you know, and, well, there wasn’t much time for a bunch of rambunctious boys in-between all the ear pulling and pillow fights."

She was warm, however, laughing a little at the image conjured for her, listening to the fire pop near their feet. “I see. So you are…not interested, then?"

"Maker forgive me for doing this but - look," he shuffled, trying to face her and get his damned mind off _that_. “I was raised to treat it as special - unique, even, it means…a lot to me for it to be shared with someone I love. It’s…too soon."

For a few moments, watching the elf’s face, he wondered if she was going to up and spit at him, mock him, laugh at him, _something_ more than just studying him, Andraste save him.

A smile however made his heart flutter to life. “I understand, perhaps…some other point."

Almost too hurriedly, he lept to his feet, clapping his hands too sharply together. “Right! Now that this is over, _huu_ , I think I need to find a river. Preferably a cold one." His feet could not have helped him move faster.


	3. A bit of a Sap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a backwards and forwards rambly bit of drabbles. THE FUTURE~

"My love?"

It was too late for his voice, but, knowing his nature, it was hard to begrudge his charming concern, particularly when flavored with an array of small kisses up her scarred spine in the dark.

She shivered and turned under the covers, squirming on the bedroll determinedly as bare arms clasped her makeshift pillow to her chest. “Such touch - you’re going to keep me awake, Alistair -"

He laughed deviously in her ear, the tickling touch of his breath making goosebumps appear on her dark skin. “Bwahaha - I shall always keep you up late, my lady, no sleep for you!" And promptly set about kissing the corner of her savaged jaw, the roughest edges of his young face tickling her to spastic laughter.

"ALIS-TAIR..!" Grabbing at her clothes, she tried to find some way of smothering her younger lover, trying to keep herself out of his grasp as she laughed.

It was too easy to be distracted, and long nights where the dreams became too bad always left her awake. She could appreciate that he noticed, that he crept up on her and curled around her frame as if to try to place himself between the darkness she had buried herself in.

My light, she’d call him, my sun.

Her heart tried not to break when she thought of the consuming shadow that warned her of the need for a death. Only through it life could begin again, and she would give up everything…to not let his light go out.


End file.
